


Won't Keep You My (Dirty Little) Secret

by lovelykits



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Blow Job, Bottom Louis, Cheerleader Louis, Fingering, Harry is a junior, Harry's family also has money, If You Wanna Call It That, Louis is a senior, Louis is called Bunny, Louis is not mean, M/M, Nerd Harry, Popular Louis, Prom, Riding, Secret Relationship, Sex, Top Harry, Unpopular Harry, but not really, kinda sub Louis, so there's none of that here, soft dom harry, which is slightly relevant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:54:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27561844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelykits/pseuds/lovelykits
Summary: “I got asked out today,” Louis comments.“Okay,” Harry shifts.“Did you hear me? I said I got asked out.”"You always get asked out.”“Yeah well this time they didn’t believe I had a boyfriend!”Or Louis and Harry have been together since the end of last year and somehow no one knows about it.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 103
Kudos: 678
Collections: Bottom Louis Fic Fest 2020





	Won't Keep You My (Dirty Little) Secret

**Author's Note:**

> Fic for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest 2020!!
> 
> Prompt:  
> AU where Louis is popular in high school and he gets chosen for prom Queen. Harry is a nerd who dates and spoils Louis but no one knows. When Louis gets chosen, he kisses Harry in front of everyone.
> 
> Title from Dirty Little Secret - All American Rejects
> 
> Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine, this is all just a story, blah blah blah, please don't sue me ~
> 
> Enjoy! :)

Louis bends over, stretching out the muscles of his thighs and the tendons in his back as he warms up with the rest of the cheerleaders in his squad. He knows that each time he folds himself in half, his shorts ride up enough to tease what’s underneath, and that knowledge along with the feel of all eyes on him, make him smirk smugly to himself.

Especially when he recognizes that particular burning stare - the one that no matter where Louis is in a room, he can feel like a never ending spotlight fixating on his form. 

Just because he can, Louis gives his bum a little extra wiggle as he straightens back up with the rest of his team. A giggle almost escapes him when he thinks about just what an eyeful he’s giving his intense admirer. 

The teasing lasts for the next ten minutes of warm up, Louis trying his hardest to show off what no one else can touch, until he’s pulled away for a quick break before the real routine work begins.

As usual the cheerleaders break off for water, the same time as the football team, unsurprisingly leading to the two sports mingling in a classic case of high school stereotyping. If Louis wasn’t such good friends with the football players, he’d honestly roll eyes at himself.

As it is, he follows along, grabbing some water next to Liam and Niall, two of the starting players of the varsity team, and the two he feels closest to.

They’re both sweaty from a brutal beginning workout, their brown hair sticking to their foreheads and faces flushed with heat. If Louis wasn't as in love as he is, he would daydream about them, hot, sweaty, and naked. Fortunately for everyone else, he is happily in love, with eyes for only one other person, and so Liam and Niall are free dreamboat game for the rest of the school.

Still, it doesn’t mean that Louis won’t take every opportunity to rub up on some good looking men. He is human after all. A human with a glutton for punishment apparently, since he drapes himself all over Liam even though he is acutely aware of that fixated gaze, watching his every move.

“Liam, my love!” He sighs dreamily, dramatically. He clings onto Liam’s _delicious_ biceps as he drinks his own water.

“Hey, Lou,” Liam greets, then promptly ignores the boy accessorizing himself on his arm.

Louis pouts before batting his lashes at Niall. “Hi Ni.”

Niall laughs, tossing his empty bottle to the side to grab another. “Hi, Lou. Practice going well?”

“Oh, you know,” Louis flaps his hand about. His intention is to encompass the entirety of an afternoon as a cheerleader - practice, drama, fit boys, and the inevitable realization that his role as top of the high school pyramid (both literally and figuratively) is not as life and death as he seems to believe in the moment - but he thinks Niall takes the gesture as one of dismissal. No matter, Louis' not there to have deep existential debates with a starting running back; he’s here to get his fill of eye candy as well as stir some jealousy into his sex life. Two birds, one stone really.

“And how about you, Niall?” Louis continues to bat his lashes. He’s been told they’re gorgeous, long and pretty, and that they cast distracting shadows on his cheeks. He knows it doesn’t have an effect on Niall as he is unfortunately very straight, but it doesn’t hurt either. Louis is stunning and anyone, straight or otherwise, knows it.

“Going good,” Niall shrugs. “Coach is running us hard, though.”

“At least that would be bearable,” Liam interjects, “if Collins would stop trying to wax poetic about your arse.”

Louis chokes on his sip of water. “What,” he coughs. “He likes Niall’s arse?”

“Fuck, no,” Niall laughs. “First of all, have you seen my bum? Nothing there.”

“Which is nothing to be ashamed of,” Louis points.

“Of course not,” Niall agrees easily. “Just nothing to be loving on.”

“And second,” Liam interrupts. “It was _your_ arse Collins was talking about, Lou.”

Louis splutters and drops down from where he was hanging off of Liam in shock. Sure, he has a great arse, astronomical some might even say, and he’s aware that it’s basic knowledge that his bum is the best in the school - but he had no idea that the captain of the football team, Jamie Collins, had a fixation on it.

Incredulously he asks, “Jamie Collins waxes poetic about my arse?”

“ _Tries to_ ,” Niall corrects. “He _tries to_ wax poetic about your arse. And he fails. Miserably, I might add.”

“What the fuck?”

“You honestly can’t tell me you didn’t know,” Liam rolls his eyes. “He’s constantly flirting with you, plus he’s always said he was an arse kind of guy.”

“I- what, no? There’s no way.”

Niall not so subtly tilts his head to the left. “He’s staring at you right now.”

Surreptitiously, or at least more so than Niall, Louis glances over his shoulder to see that Jamie Collins is indeed checking him out. Louis' stomach drops out from under him, a bad feeling pooling at the back of his neck. It’s a different sensation to the heated prickle from before. The stare earlier set him alight with mischievousness and lust; this look, from Jamie fucking Collins, makes him feel itchy all over.

As if he could sense it, Jamie’s eyes snap up to meet Louis' and Louis hastily turns away, hoping the half formed wink he caught from the corner of his eye was a figment of his darting vision. No way Jamie Collins was winking at him. No fucking way.

Dumbfounded, Louis looks helplessly to Liam and Niall. “What the hell. Since when did Collins like my arse? How did I not know this?”

“I don’t know, mate,” Liam shrugs. “A while I guess. It’s not a new thing.”

“No shit.” Louis glances over his shoulder again, quick this time, but enough to know that while Jamie is still talking to his friends he is still very much focused on Louis' figure, specifically his bum. That uncomfortable feeling inside grows a little more. 

And it’s not like Jamie Collins is actually a bad guy or anything; Louis has had many conversations with him, what with Jamie being captain of the varsity football team and Louis being co-captain of the varsity cheer team, and they’ve worked together on projects for games before. Louis _knows_ Jamie, but something about being aware that Jamie likes him for more than his friendship and in an obviously objectifiable way, has Louis feeling uneasy. 

In his discomfort, Louis' eyes search out the one face on the bleachers that he _wants_ to always have watching him. But after a moment’s search he can’t find him, so with a frown he pouts at his friends.

“Well it’s just too bad then,” Louis says, flippant, although he’s not too sure it comes across as intended. “I’m already taken, so he’s just going to have to deal with never having a piece of me.”

Niall snorts into his wrist. “Yeah, okay, Lou.”

“What?” Louis asks. “You don’t believe me? He is _never_ having me.”

“I think he meant the taken part,” Liam clarifies.

Louis' brows shoot to the top of his hairline. “Excuse you?”

Before either Liam or Niall could answer, Jes, Louis' co-captain calls for the squad to regroup. 

With a frown, Louis joins his team’s pre-practice huddle, but the stares on his back don’t feel the same as they did before.

—

At the end of practice, Jamie Collins corners Louis coming out of the locker rooms. It surprises Louis considering the football team have only just finished their daily training and so for Jamie to already be at the locker room doors he must have sprinted down.

Louis attempts a smooth escape but is caught by the arm and asked for a quick chat before he can leave.

“Sure Jamie,” Louis hitches his gym back higher on his shoulder. He has a not so pleasant feeling about the impending conversation, but he forces himself to relax. Jamie never said or did anything to Louis before, so Louis doesn’t have a reason to be tense about it now. With only a semi-strained smile he asks, “what’s up?”

“You looked good today at practice,” Jamie begins. “It’s amazing how well you lead the team.”

Louis furrows his brows slightly, but he continues to smile politely. “Oh, thanks. I think we’re going to have a great season.”

“Yeah, definitely,” Jamie nods, but he quickly diverts, stepping in a bit closer to Louis. “Listen I was wondering if you were doing anything this weekend?”

Uneasily Louis shifts the bag on his shoulder again. Then in an effort to both get himself some space and give him a second more to think of an answer, he switches shoulders to perch his bag on. Unfortunately the swing of his heavy duffle does nothing to deter Jamie from standing as close as he is.

With a quiet sigh Louis finally answers, “I’m not doing anything in particular, probably spending time with my family, the boyfriend.”

“That’s great. I was won- wait what?” Jamie stumbles over his words. “You have a boyfriend?”

Once again Louis' eyebrows raise up high. “Um, yeah? I thought everyone knew that?”

“No, I had no idea.”

“Oh, well,” Louis shrugs, or as much of a shrug with his bag still weighing him down. “I do. And actually he’s waiting in the car park to take me home, so.”

Jamie’s face looks crestfallen, downturned as he nods his head glumly, if not confusedly. “Right, yeah, sorry to bother.”

“That’s okay,” Louis turns. “Have a good night.”

—

When Louis enters his room, he hears the lock on his door click shut, the ominous sound echoing louder than it honestly should. With trepidation and what is hopefully an appeasing simper, Louis turns to face his undoubtedly irritated boyfriend.

And he is irritated, Harry, standing there, leaned against Louis' bedroom door with an arrogance Louis can only ever find attractive on him. He has an eyebrow cocked behind his large framed glasses, something that becomes more pronounced as he slowly removes the pair and folds them down onto Louis’ dresser. 

Louis shudders at just what that look, paired with those deliberate movements, mean.

“Well, someone was having fun at practice,” Harry states plainly. His voice, as usual, comes out monotone, the deep grumbly words following its normal even inflection. That’s one thing Louis both loves and hates about his boyfriend: Harry’s tone continues to stay a constant cadence no matter his mood. It’s reassuring when Louis needs a reliable sound to comfort him and unnerving when they fight and Harry’s voice barely matches his angry demeanor.

Right now, Louis relishes in the deep huskiness of it, loving the way it fits Harry’s large-and-in-charge persona - the persona only Louis has ever been able to see.

The persona Louis _lives_ for.

“I wouldn’t necessarily say fun,” Louis tries. He steps up to his boyfriend, cutely reaching out to hold onto the ends of Harry’s flannel over shirt. It’s been left unbuttoned over a dumb physics pun tee, which Louis would normally wrinkle his nose at. Right now, though, even with the ridiculously nerdy attire Harry appears like nothing to laugh at. 

Instead he appears _dominant,_ in charge, sure of himself and his position in Louis' room and their relationship. His dark green eyes watch Louis' every movement, and while Louis is trying to act sweet and innocent, Harry looks at him like Louis is something to be broken open and devoured. 

Which, that’s _exactly_ what Louis wants. But first he has to play to get there.

“Practice was really tough,” he continues. His fingers slowly make their way up Harry’s flannel until he can let go entirely and just rest his hands on Harry's warm, broad chest. “I missed you and didn’t see you anywhere,” he pouts.

Although Harry slouches down the door a bit to accommodate Louis' small stature, he doesn’t do anything more to reach out for the boy. Instead he tips his head back and peers down at Louis’ faux simper. 

“Oh really,” he asks, skeptical, and rightfully so. “Didn’t seem like you missed me much since you were having a great time hanging all over those other boys.”

Louis smiles bright, linking his hands around Harry’s neck. “So you were there. How come I didn’t see you?”

“You knew I was there, bunny,” Harry rolls his eyes. “And don’t change the subject.”

With another pout Louis attempts to peck Harry on the lips. His boyfriend, however, turns his head enough that Louis’ kiss misses, catching just the corner of Harry’s mouth.

“Baby,” Louis whines. “It was just Niall and Liam, you know that.”

“Yeah?” Harry glares. He finally reaches around to grab at Louis’ arse, gripping it harshly. Louis rocks up into Harry’s hold with a gasp, eyes fluttering at the touch. Harry smirks, asks, “and who was the other one? The one eye fucking you, the one you let touch you, talk to you?”

It takes a moment for Louis to figure out who Harry means, but when it clicks, he turns coy and giggles. “Jamie you mean? He’s no one, baby.”

Harry grumbles pressing his face into Louis' neck. He bites there softly before pulling back and dragging his hands up to hold Louis’ face steady, fingers tucked on his neck and thumbs propping his boyfriend’s chin up. “If he’s no one, bunny, then why do you know his name?”

Louis rolls his eyes trying to pull away from Harry’s hold, but it only makes his towering boyfriend frown and grip harder.

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?”

Louis’ pulse skyrockets. “Um, no?”

“What,” Harry presses, “you think that just because you throw yourself at others and one just happens to take interest in you, that you can disrespect me? Don’t forget who’s in charge here, bunny.”

“I don’t,” Louis promises in a whisper.

Harry huffs a breath as he drops his hands to his sides. His overbearing possession switches smoothly into cool detachment once again. Louis craves Harry’s touch and whines, grabbing at Harry’s shirt desperately in an attempt to get it back.

“Oh, now you want my attention,” Harry snorts. “You say you know who’s in charge and yet you think you can get me to do what you want when you want it. That’s not how it works, bunny, and you know it. If you don’t like it then you clearly know others who can give it to you.”

“But, I want you,” Louis pouts.

“Sure, really seemed like it earlier.”

“It’s true, babe. I swear.”

“Yeah?” Harry asks. He slowly detaches Louis' hands from wrinkling his clothes, linking their fingers together sweetly. A sweetness that contradicts the way Harry presses his forehead to Louis' and whispers, “why don’t you show me then? Think you can get on your knees and prove it to me?”

Louis nods vigorously. He feels the smirk Harry presses onto the top of his head before he’s helped down onto the floor, knees folded under him.

Harry’s hand catches the side of Louis' face, tenderly rubbing his thumb across his sharp cheekbone. “You need a pillow, bunny? You did floor work at practice today; your knees might be sore.”

With a preen, Louis gazes lovingly up at his boyfriend. “No, I’m good. Promise.”

“Hm, let me know if you need it.”

“I will,” Louis says and reaches out eagerly to unbutton Harry’s pants.

However, he’s batted away, Harry looking sternly down at him. “Did I say you could touch?”

Chastised, Louis dips his head. He knows how he looks, sweet and submissive, bowed down in front of his boyfriend. It’s a visual that he knows gets to Harry like nothing else, and he can’t lie and say it doesn’t turn him on too. The fact that Harry is usually so quiet and humble, yet takes control in bed, turns Louis on more than anything. It makes him feel like he is the only one who can drive Harry to such lust that he has to take on this dominant role to feel as though he has some control over what he feels. And even though that means Louis ends up on his knees more often than not, or that he succumbs to Harry’s every whim in bed, it doesn’t deter from the fact that like this Louis feels incredibly powerful. 

Powerful and sexy and willing do whatever Harry wants. So if Harry wants him not to touch, he won’t touch.

“Keep your hands where I can see them, bunny,” Harry instructs. “Can’t touch yourself either. Know how much you like to come when you’re sucking me off, but not today.”

With a shudder, Louis does as asked, leaving his hands palm down on his own thighs and waits for whatever’s next. 

Harry smirks at his actions, praises him with a quiet, “good bunny,” and rewards him with unzipping his jeans enough to fold away the tough fabric, leaving Louis with a view of his cock, already hard, behind his tight black pants underneath. 

“See what you do to me, bunny?”

Just the sight has Louis licking his lips in anticipation as he nods his head. Harry’s got a great cock is the thing, and Louis sometimes spends long bouts of time thinking about nothing other than getting his mouth on it long enough to make Harry come. Something he is definitely going to do now. 

He hopes.

“Well, bunny? You didn’t answer,” Harry presses. His hand comes around to grip the back of Louis' head lightly, fingers weaving into the growing strands in the back. Louis sways forward with the motion, ready to put his mouth on whatever he can, but doesn’t get far, as Harry tugs once, sharply, jerking his boyfriend to a halt.

“Already acting out,” Harry scoffs. “I asked you one thing and you can’t even answer me that.”

The tone of his voice has Louis focusing, snapping out of his slight trance. “No- I,” he stutters helplessly. “I see. I want it.”

A short laugh escapes Harry’s lips. “I can tell,” he says, amused. “Think I should let you have it?”

In moments like these, where Louis feels desperate enough to drop to the floor and beg for his boyfriend’s cock, he always has a moment of clarity, of who he is, where he’s at, and what exactly he’s doing. And everytime he concludes that nothing could ever make him feel the way Harry makes him feel. 

So he flutters his lashes like he did earlier in the day, but this time knowing it’ll work in his favor, drops his mouth open to show the warm pink of his tongue, and whispers out a quiet, “please.”

Harry groans. “Alright, bunny. Go ahead.”

At the permission Louis leans forward eagerly, helped along with Harry’s guiding hand, to mouth sweetly over Harry’s cock still trapped inside his pants. 

He presses kisses along the bulge, nibbling in a few sporadic places, something that makes Harry groan in the back of his throat. Louis whimpers when he finds the head and licks over it enough to wet the front into a darker shade of black, then sucks on it, like he can get the cock in his mouth through sheer force of will.

Above him Harry curses as he presses Louis' face closer, forcing him down on his clothed cock. Louis smiles into the wet fabric then gently pulls at it with his teeth, hoping Harry gets the hint to finally remove the honestly offending piece of clothing. 

Harry doesn’t relent on his hold against his cock, even as he asks. “Want more, bunny?”

Louis muffles a whine into the pants before turning his head and whimpering, “yes, please.”

“So polite,” Harry coos. He runs his fingers soothingly through Louis' hair, brushing his fringe out of his eyes tenderly. “Okay, bunny. Help me out of my clothes.”

They work together to peel Harry out of his loose jeans and then pants, Harry kicking them to the side. Louis dazedly stares at his boyfriend’s cock, thick and hard, tempting.

“Hands back where I can see them, bunny,” Harry commands. “Then you can have a taste.”

Obediently Louis folds his hands back on his thighs and waits patiently with an itch under his skin for Harry to let him take him into his mouth.

“What a perfect bunny,” Harry praises. “You’ve earned your treat. Here you go.” With one hand around his cock and the other twisted into the strands of hair at the back of Louis' head, Harry feeds his tip into Louis’ open mouth. 

Whimpering, Louis sucks on it. He also bounces once, twice, on his knees in an attempt to get even closer.

“You’re alright, bunny,” Harry hums. “Hopping like you do won’t get you anywhere. You know that.”

Although his mouth is occupied, Louis pouts as best he can, then pulls back to press a kiss to the head of Harry’s cock. He lightly licks it a few times, keeping track of both the wetness dripping from his boyfriend's length and the furrow of his brow.

Another couple licks and Harry yanks forward harshly on Louis’ hair. Louis yelps, giving Harry the perfect opportunity to press more of his cock into Louis' wet mouth. “Bunnies don’t lick like kittens,” he scolds. “Now suck.”

With a fluttering moan, Louis does as asked. His own prick throbs in his pants and he digs his nails into his thighs harshly to stop from touching himself. Instead he focuses on sucking down Harry’s length like Louis knows Harry likes and dragging his tongue up the underside.

Harry hums with satisfaction, eyes falling hooded. “That feels real nice. How is it, bunny? Feel good for you?”

Honestly, it feels so good Louis could cry. He might cry. He doesn’t know what it is, but getting Harry’s cock in his mouth is something Louis genuinely fucking loves. The weight, the taste, the dark scent of Harry so aroused. The way Louis knows his jaw will ache later, but in such a satisfactory way that indicates he did a good job taking care of his boyfriend. All of it. It just gets to Louis.

And Harry knows that.

“It is good, isn’t it?” Harry affirms, although Louis did nothing more than choke on both Harry’s cock and his own breath. “And you’re doing so good, my bunny. So good, not touching.”

No, Louis isn’t touching. And it’s killing him, driving him insane. Harry pointing it out doesn't help either. He becomes hyper fixated on it and suddenly he can’t stop shifting his hips trying to find friction.

“Oh, bunny,” Harry coos. His hand crandles the side of Louis' face lovingly. “You’re all wet; did you know that? Seeping through your little shorts.”

Louis whines loudly because _he knows_. He can feel the wetness, can feel it sticky around the head of his cock. But Harry loves pointing it out, keeping Louis aware that Harry knows exactly what he does to him. 

His cry cuts off halfway through from Harry fucking his length harshly into Louis' mouth, grip on the side of his face tightening and then dropping away. With no more preamble, Harry fucks into him earnestly, properly, the way they both like it.

The way that makes Louis dizzy and almost come right into his pants.

But not before Harry does, spilling hot down Louis' throat with no warning. Louis swallows and gags but takes everything given to him, falling lax almost as if he was the one who came.

“What a good bunny,” Harry praises sweetly. He slowly pulls his cock away, but Louis chases it subconsciously, whimpering. With a grating chuckle, Harry holds Louis back by his hair. “No more, bun.”

Tears form along Louis' lash line and Harry hushes him as he hauls him up into his arms. Most of Louis’ weight rests along Harry, but it’s comfortable, familiar. 

Harry chides while he swipes his thumbs along Louis’ lower lids, “none of that. You’re gonna come now. Don’t think you deserve a fucking with the way you acted earlier. But you did so good, made me feel amazing. You can come.”

Sighing in both relief and anticipation, Louis clings to Harry desperately, awaiting which way Harry sees fit for him to reach bliss. 

It starts with Harry's strong hands grabbing onto Louis' bum and ends with Louis wildly rutting up against his boyfriend’s thigh, chasing his release in a raunchy sort of way.

“That’s it, my bunny,” Harey coaxes. “If you want to come, show me how you only want me, you’re going to do it just like this. Just with my voice and your little prick against my thigh. You can do that for me, can't you?”

Two thrusts later, and Louis does.

—

“I got asked out today,” Louis comments from between Harry’s legs, laid back on his chest. They’re both still naked from the quick shower they had together, but nothing more transpired other than cuddling together while they tried to do some of their homework.

“Okay,” Harry shifts. He keeps focused on the graphic design book propped on his knee, but he does stroke his one unoccupied hand up the length of Louis' thigh under the blanket.

It’s still not enough attention for Louis.

“Hey,” he pouts. He reaches out, slapping his hand across the page Harry’s on, effectively disrupting his boyfriend’s concentration. “Did you hear me? I said I got asked out.”

“Of course I heard you bunny. I’m right here,” Harry laughs. His book is tossed to the side, hands now open to snake around Louis' middle. “I’m also not sure what exactly you want me to say to that. You always get asked out.”

“Yeah well this time they didn’t believe I had a boyfriend!”

“What?”

Louis shuffles around in Harry’s hold to sit back on his thighs with a huff. “First it was Liam and Niall. They mentioned Jamie Collins checking out my arse, but when I told them I was taken and he had no chance, they didn’t believe me!”

Harry raises a brow. “Well have you told them before that we were together?”

“I’m sure I have,” Louis frowns. “At least I think so.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it, bun.” Harry’s soothing hands wrap around Louis' waist for a squeeze, then run along his thighs comfortingly. “It’s not like you spend much time with them outside of practice or games. I can see how it didn’t get brought into conversation.”

“Yeah, I guess…” Louis sighs, then bounces back up. “But then fucking Collins! He tried asking me out! And when I told him he seemed confused too!”

Harry snorts. “Well, you talk to him way less than Niall and Liam. So even more doubtful that he would know.”

“This doesn’t bother you?” Louis stabs Harry with a finger to the chest. “I got asked out and no one realizes I’m taken!”

With a swift grab at Louis' finger, Harry brings his boyfriend’s palm to his mouth for a quick kiss. “Of course it doesn’t bother me, bunny. You know that. As long as I have you, I don’t really give a fuck who knows.”

And, yeah, Louis does know that. Harry may act possessive as all hell in bed, but outside of it, he’s nothing but passive. Passive and sweet and full of so much love for Louis, it’s laughable for Louis to ever think of choosing someone other than Harry. Harry who spoils Louis like no other and makes him feel like he’s on top of the goddamn world, like he could drown in Valentine love letters and feel nothing but pure bliss.

But still.

“I don’t know. It just seems odd that we’ve been dating since the end of last year, and yet it’s like no one knows.”

“I think Niall, Liam, and Collins don’t necessarily constitute as ‘everyone,’ bunny,” Harry laughs. He pulls Louis closer to him by his wrists, laying back with Louis draped over his front, even as his boyfriend struggles. “If it’s really that bothersome, we can make a giant announcement to the entire school tomorrow.”

Louis' attempt to fight off Harry’s hold is futile. So, he slumps into his boyfriend, resigned. “No, that’s okay. I just found it odd.”

Harry hums in understanding. “Are you sure? I can start working on a banner tonight. Have it hung up at the front entrance to the school tomorrow.”

Louis slaps at Harry in annoyance, but he giggles the whole time.

—

“Thank you for helping me, Haz,” Louis tiptoes to kiss his boyfriend on the lips.

“Of course, bunny,” Harry hums. He returns Louis' peck once, twice, smiling into their press of lips. “I know how important this is for you.”

Louis preens at that, overwhelmed with love and happiness by the fact that his boyfriend is so supportive.

Because for the first time ever, anyone identifying as any gender is allowed to run for Prom Queen. It was a struggle to get approved, Louis fought hard to get the right, but in the end it was all worth it.

All worth it to see his own smiling face plastered on shiny poster cards and littered all over the school announcing himself as a candidate for Prom Queen.

With one more bouncy, smiley kiss, Louis turns away and declares, “I better fucking win.”

Harry laughs loudly, his bright happy laugh, where he tips his head back in glee. “I have no doubt you will, bunny.”

“I’m just saying,” Louis defends, taping up another poster. “We’re putting a lot of work into this.”

And he definitely means ‘we.’ If it weren’t for Harry and his incredible graphic design skills, Louis would never even have the posters to begin with. Add that to the fact that Harry’s membership in the photography club granted him an all access key to the school allowing them to be there early enough to hang the posters, and Louis could never take all the credit.

“We are putting a lot of work into it,” Harry agrees. “But it’ll pay off. You’ll be the loveliest Prom Queen in history.”

What a fucking charmer. Louis simpers up at Harry before yanking him down by the neck to kiss him again. This time the slide of lips lasts a little longer, so Louis has to physically push Harry away to stop himself from actually jumping his boyfriend's bones. It wouldn’t be the first time they have a close call and it certainly won’t be the last.

“At this rate,” he pants, discreetly wiping the corner of his mouth where his lipgloss is smeared, “we’ll never get the rest of these up.”

Harry’s eyes track Louis' thumb gliding on his pretty lips, managing a weak chuckle of amusement. “Alright bunny. Why don’t you stay here and finish these while I take the rest and start down the east hall?”

“Mmm,” Louis hums. “That would be great. Thanks, baby.”

Harry smirks, quickly smooches Louis' lips one last time, then heads off down the hall. “You’re welcome, bun.”

Louis giggles to himself, bouncing once happily on his toes before turning to put up more posters of himself.

Harry really did a gorgeous job with the Prom Queen campaign posters. It features a picture of Louis, eyes lowered innocently, yet sweetly, with a photoshopped princess crown resting on his head. Instead of looking tacky, like how Louis originally thought it would, the effect adds a classic, wholesome Prom Queen vibe. With ‘Vote Louis for Prom Queen’ scrawled across the top and bottom in pastel yellow with a tiny bunny emoji, there’s no way Louis can be ignored as a running candidate.

Louis hums excitedly as he rounds the corner into the next hall, ready to stick these posters on every available surface possible.

However, only one successfully pinned poster later, he’s interrupted by a voice calling out, “you look amazing in your poster.”

Louis twirls around, smiling bright, until he sees Jamie Collins leaning on the wall on the other side of the hallway. His smile falters, but he recovers quickly, hugging his stack of posters to his chest.

“Thank you,” he accepts, genuine, despite the one doling out the compliment. “I appreciate that.”

“Of course, Lou,” Jamie smiles wide. “You’re a shoe in for Prom Queen. Everyone knows it.”

Louis can feel the crinkles that are most definitely showing by his eyes with how hard he smiles, too happy with the thought that others see him as a perfect Prom Queen. He bounces, elated, on his toes, and beams bright.

“You think so?” He gushes.

Jamie smirks, nowhere near as gorgeous looking as Harry, but still with some devilish charm and says, “only thing that could make you prettier would be a king on your arm.”

Louis drops down onto his feet at that. Personally, Louis thinks he looks fucking stunning with or without someone ‘on his arm,’ but he supposes that having Harry with him would always make him look ten thousand times better, if only for the way Louis knows he glows when he has his boyfriend around. 

Somehow, Louis is sure that’s not exactly what Jamie Collins is getting at.

And it’s not, as Jamie continues with, “in fact, I’ll be running for Prom King.”

Louis smiles tightly. Of course, _of course_ , fucking Jamie Collins would be running for Prom King. Louis wants to roll his eyes, but he refrains, instead offering up an encouraging, but hopefully dismissive, “that’s great for you, Jamie.”

Unfortunately, Jamie does not get what Louis was hoping was an obvious social cue. “Yeah, thanks,” he says as he steps closer. “I was thinking that we could go together. Show a united front as Prom royalty, you know?”

Yeah, no. Louis does roll his eyes, then, dropping his arms out exasperatedly. “I already told you, Jamie. I have a boyfriend.”

“Wait, you’re serious?” 

At that Louis frowns, incredibly confused. He glances each way down the hallway, then back at Jamie, before pulling a face that clearly says ‘what the fuck of course I am.’ He follows it up by actually saying it out loud, just to really drive the point home.

“Oh,” Jamie says, and he also looks confused, which Louis really doesn’t think he has a right to considering Louis literally told Jamie about Harry just the other day.

“It’s just that,” Jamie continues. “I asked around, and no one seems to know you’re dating anyone. So I thought you made it up so you wouldn’t have to answer me.”

“What?” Louis asks, deadpan. “You thought I would make that up? And then ask me again anyway? What the fuck?”

“Hey, don’t get mad,” Jamie mutters, which really fucking gets Louis mad. “Seriously, I had no idea.”

“Um, yes you did!” Louis throws his arms wide, his posters almost flying from his hand. “I _told_ you I had a boyfriend. Or does that not matter and you can only trust the gossip mill?”

“I didn’t know what to think,” Jamie counters with a glare. He’s clearly frustrated and annoyed by Louis' reaction, but Louis honestly doesn’t care - he’s equally, if not more, frustrated by Jamie’s reaction. “No one has ever seen you with anyone! Is it so wrong of me to think that you made him up?”

Louis scoffs. “Make him up? You think I would make up a boyfriend?”

“Actually, Lou, I would, and I do! You say you have a boyfriend, well who is he?”

“Not that it’s any of your business,” Louis narrows his eyes dangerously, “but it’s Harry Styles. So, you can kindly fuck off now that you have your information.”

And he turns away sharply, intent on ignoring Jamie _fucking_ Collins and anything else he has to say.

—

“Fuck, bunny,” Harry groans, hands pressed deeply into Louis' skin. There are definitely going to be bruises left in the hollows of Louis' ribs, the outside of his thighs, and along the curve of his waist, and Louis relishes in it, arching his back to present himself further. 

“You’re always so soft for me, bun,” Harry continues, voice deep and husk. His hips roll once more, slowly into Louis, and Louis whines at the feeling, throwing his head back.

Desperately, Louis' hands scramble to hold onto the back of Harry’s head and the broadness of his back, trying to pull him closer, closer, _closer_. Harry hums with a squeeze that encompasses Louis' entire waist, fingers meeting in the middle of his back, and follows Louis' eager tugs.

“I’m right here, bunny,” he soothes sweetly. “I’m right here.”

“More,” Louis whines, but Harry doesn’t listen, keeping his slow and steady pace, fucking into Louis with deep drags that has the boy feeling absolutely everything. Louis both loves it more than anything in the world and despises it with his entire being. 

“But I’m already so deep, bun,” Harry mumbles. One of his hands moves from Louis' waist to his small stomach, rubbing across the soft skin. “Can’t you feel me?”

“Yes, yes, Harry,” Louis chants, “yes.” Because he can, he can feel Harry everywhere. On him, in him. Sometimes when they’re like this, so closely entwined, Louis doesn’t know if what he’s feeling is his own pleasure or Harry’s. He doesn’t know and he doesn’t care, so caught up in everything that they are when they’re together. 

Harry hums approvingly into Louis' neck. “See, bunny. You don’t need more. I’m giving you everything.”

When put like that, Louis nods stupidly, going along with whatever his boyfriend says. If Harry thinks this is enough to get him off, then it must be. Because no one knows Louis more than Harry does, and Louis trusts him implicitly. 

“That’s right, bunny,” Harry coos. He finally pulls away from his burrow in Louis' neck to peer down at Louis’ wet eyes and flushed face. “So gorgeous, bun. You look so beautiful when you’re so full of pleasure. You just don’t know what to do with it, huh?”

Louis whimpers, attempting to hide his pleased blush into the pillow, but it’s futile. Harry is very aware of how vain Louis can be, and anytime Harry compliments Louis in such a vulnerable state, it has the boy’s cock dripping and his body flushing with butterflies of happiness.

“Oh no,” Harry chides gently, reaching out to coax Louis’ face back around. “Don’t hide from me, bunny. You know I love to see you.”

Dazedly, Louis' mind sticks to the word love and he preens at it. He captures Harry’s hand from the side of his face with his own and holds it close. “Love,” he repeats with a sharp keen, as Harry grinds in particularly deep.

“That’s right, bunny,” Harry smiles. “Love you.”

Louis cries out, arching his back obscenely, desperately wanting to reach down for his cock, get some more friction where he really needs it. But it’s like Harry anticipates it, catching both of Louis' wrists in his one hand and pinning them just above the boy’s head. 

“None of that,” Harry squeezes his wrists. “you know you don’t get to touch.”

Louis actually sobs at that, squirming underneath his boyfriend in an attempt to find some sort of relief. “Ah! More!”

“No, bunny. I said you don’t get more.”

Tears start building at Louis' lash line at the denial, raw pleasure burning up from his core to the top of his head. But Harry’s right, as much as Louis begs for it, he honestly doesn’t need anything more to come. Past experience has shown that with the right thrusts Louis can fall apart completely untouched.

Thrusts that Harry easily transitions to with a quick angle of his hips. Where before his cock brushed up against Louis' prostate, it now grinds into it head on, a sensation that has Louis silently gasping. 

“That’s it, isn’t it, bunny?” Harry coos down at him with a smirk. “Can come from that, can’t you?”

Frantically, Louis nods his head, eyes rolling back and spine arching up one final time as Harry presses in slowly, yet unrelentingly, into Louis’ tight body. Louis whines out a week, “ah,” then spills all over himself in pure bliss.

“Fucking beautiful, bun,” Harry growls. He ducks back into Louis' neck, fucking harder with quick snaps of his hips until he comes bare inside his boyfriend.

Louis feels like he’s never going to be able to come down from the clouds.

—

When Louis walks into the Styles’ home, he beelines it to the second sitting room where Harry always goes in the afternoons to work on homework. As predicted he finds his boyfriend lounging in one of the expensive looking, plush armchairs with a chemistry text open on his lap, glasses obscuring most of his face.

With a bright smile, Louis drops his backpack on the floor, shoves Harry’s book off his lap, and unceremoniously plops himself down in it’s place. “Hi, baby!”

Harry chuckles, easily ignoring the fallen book and accepting a lap full of boy to wrap one hand around Louis' waist, the other gluing to the inside of his thigh. “Well hello, bun,” he greets amusedly. “How was the meeting?”

“Really good!” Louis chirps. Distractedly he reaches out to adjust the oversized glasses on Harry’s face, cooing at the crookedness of them before continuing. “The girls are absolutely amazing! Since they really loved the dress I picked for prom, they’re going to go with a similar theme. How sweet, right?”

“That’s very sweet, bunny,” Harry gives Louis' waist a squeeze. “I’m glad they’re so supportive of you.”

“I know! Honestly, don’t know what I’d do without them.”

Tucking a wispy strand of hair behind Louis' ear, Harry pets at the boy’s cheek adoringly. “Probably shine just as brightly, bun,” he reassures. “You have everything you need inside yourself.”

Rolling his eyes, Louis swats at Harry’s head playfully, even as he blushes. Honestly Harry showers him in so many compliments, it’s a wonder he still blushes so deeply every time one is bestowed upon him. But Harry’s so genuine, is the thing. And how could Louis not feel every honeyed compliment down to the bottom of his nerve endings when each is delivered with perfect sincerity? 

To compensate for feeling flustered, Louis slaps at Harry more, giggling when Harry begins to fight off Louis' flailing hands. Which is just not acceptable. So, Louis tries harder to muss up his boyfriend’s perfectly slicked back hair. It leads to a wrestled back and forth that jostles Louis on Harry’s lap to the point where he almost falls. He hangs on though, ruffling and prodding at any exposed hair and skin he can get at.

Eventually, and rightfully so, Harry concedes defeat, hands dropping away dramatically with a sigh.

It makes Louis cheer victoriously as he throws his arms wide. “Never challenge me! I’ll always win!”

“Yeah,” Harry grumbles back, fingers attempting to flatten his hair back to something tameable. It’s futile as curls stay wildly poking out in any given direction. “That’s because you fight dirty.”

Louis smiles sweetly. He absolutely fights dirty, and he _absolutely_ prides himself in it.

“Anyway,” Harry rolls his eyes. “If you’re done assaulting me, I have something for you.”

Immediately Louis melts and sighs with a fondness he can’t hide. Of course Harry got him something. Louis once read up on love languages, and while Harry checked most of the boxes for showing and receiving affection, one in particular stood out - gift giving. And it’s not that Louis minds in the least, he actually fucking loves being showered in presents and he’s very aware of Harry’s family wealth and the ability it gives Harry to throw money wherever he pleases. But each time Harry gifts him something nice, he feels a little more unworthy of such wonderful treatment, no matter how much Harry reassures him that he enjoys giving Louis everything he can.

They’ve worked on it, and Louis is slowly accepting that no matter what, Harry will always lavish him with presents. Presents as small as novelty shop trinkets to Burberry clothes.

There are worse things in the world.

Still, Louis simpers up at his boyfriend, snaking his arms around his neck. “Haz, you spoil me.”

“And you deserve every bit of it,” Harry presses their noses together. He gives Louis' lips a little peck before gracing the boy with a winsome smile and a pat to his bum, prompting, “up you get, bun.”

Louis reluctantly leaves his favorite spot in the world, shuffling over into the closest loveseat. He watches as Harry digs around in his open bag on the floor, hair flopping ridiculously, glasses sliding down his nose. 

Honestly, his boyfriend is such a dork, with his dumb clothes emblazoned in nerdy puns and horribly colored sweaters and how he enthusiastically participates in extracurricular activities like fucking math club, the logo of which he has proudly pinned to his backpack. Who even _knows_ about math club, let alone becomes part of the team? Harry, that’s who.

Louis is so fucking in love.

Finally, Harry stands triumphantly, proudly holding up a large black velvet box.

Louis pouts, eyeing what is undoubtedly a pricey gift. “Harry, is this going to be expensive?”

Harry shrugs mischievously, wiggling his brows up and down. “I don’t know, why don’t you find out?”

“Stupid,” Louis mutters, but he takes the box, breathing deeply before popping it open.

Inside, laid on more decadent velvet is a stunning set of pearls. On the outer edge, there's a gold necklace laced with champagne colored pearls and glistening diamonds that drip like rain on a window. A bracelet is tucked away on the inner circle, an identical match that will no doubt fit Louis perfectly. They’re probably the most stunning pieces of jewelry Louis has ever seen, and his eyes water as he blinks up at Harry in shock.

“Do you like it?” Harry asks, although he seems sure of himself, like the possibility of Louis thinking of it as anything less than incredible is preposterous. 

He would be right.

Louis glances down at the jewelry again, running a finger over the diamonds and pearls. “Harry,” he breathes. “It’s absolutely gorgeous.”

Harry smiles in a way that can’t contain how much love he has for Louis. “It’s for prom,” he explains, taking the box from Louis and removing the bracelet from it. “I thought it would look good with your dress, and since you don’t like corsages, I figured the bracelet would be a better alternative.”

Gingerly, Harry reaches for Louis' wrist, strapping the bracelet on and doing the clasp. Once secured, he tilts Louis' hand one way, then the other, admiring the pearls with pure satisfaction. 

“I was going to wait until prom night to give it to you,” Harry continues. “But I know you’re going in with the team and I didn’t want you to buy any other jewelry for the dress.”

Louis could cry. Louis _is going to cry_. Only Harry, perfect, sweet Harry, would think to gift something like this, and do it so well. Because he’s right, the necklace and bracelet would look perfect with the dress he picked for prom.

Upsettingly, Harry couldn’t go with Louis when he went dress shopping due to some sort of important family function. Louis pouted about it, but he understood Harry’s family dynamic enough to know that his boyfriend had no choice in the matter. So, Louis went with his squad.

After trying on and sending pics of over ten different dresses to Harry, Louis finally stumbled across the most elegant, perfect prom dress.

It was pure silk, a one of a kind design that had been apparently sitting in the back of the shop for years since it wasn’t in line with the more modern dresses that sold for more. It definitely stood out, with it’s satin champagne color, long billowy sleeves, and halter top like spaghetti straps. Louis fell in love. Trying it on only cemented his adoration as the fabric clung in the perfect places and the low open back accentuated just what he wanted.

He felt like a goddamn goddess and bought it without ordering a single alteration.

The next day he brought it to Harry’s house for a fashion show that ended with the dress pooled on the floor and Louis being worshipped like the deity he felt he was.

Speechless, Louis fiddles with the bracelet on his wrist, then runs his fingers over the necklace still in the case. “I don’t know what to say, Harry. Thank you so much.”

“Louis, look at me,” Harry encourages gently. He waits until Louis blinks wetly up, then reaches out to run his thumb along the boy’s lash line, catching any possible tears. “You’re going to look absolutely breathtaking for prom. And you deserve it.”

Tears officially falling, and blush burning up his cheeks, Louis buries his face into Harry’s chest and holds onto the goddamn love of his life.

—

When Louis rolls up from his last stretch before break at practice, he’s instantly cornered by the leaders of his team. There’s Jes, his co-captain, Nisha, their head flyer, Dreika, who’s been cheering longer than any of them, and Caitlyn, the team’s best tumbler. Suspicious, Louis quirks an eyebrow, resigned to the fact that he will no longer be free to take break with the rest of the squad.

“So, Lou,” Nisha starts. “Jamie Collins has been blowing the ears off of the entire school’s population about the fact that you’re dating someone.”

Of course. Louis rolls his eyes with a sigh. “Yeah. Apparently he wasn’t aware that I had a boyfriend.”

Jes, who until this point had seemed only half interested in the conversation as though she only tagged along because the others had, snaps up at that. “Wait, you actually have one?”

In shock, Louis glances from one face to another. He can feel his own slack jaw, surprisingly mirrored in the faces of his teammates. “Um, yes? Of all people I thought you would know?”

“We had no idea!” Caitlyn yells in shock. The others nod in agreement which absolutely _baffles_ Louis.

“But I literally talk about him all the time!”

“No, you talk about going out all the time,” Jes corrects. “We all just assumed they were dates with different people.”

Louis goes to argue but Drieka rests a hand on his arm. “You’ve been absent more than normal, Lou. It’s not like we’ve really caught up in a long time.”

Frustrated, Louis stomps his foot. It’s one thing for a dick like Jamie Collins to think he was single and another for Liam and Niall to believe that, but for his teammates, some of the people he’s closest to in the world, it’s something else entirely. 

“Are you seriously telling me that this entire senior year, when I’ve mentioned Harry, you thought I was talking about different guys I’ve been seeing?”

All four girls nod, shifting on their feet. “Well, it’s not like you’ve ever had a steady relationship before,” Jes shrugs. 

“And,” Nisha adds, “as Dreik said, it’s not like we’ve caught up in a long time. Last we knew, you were content just messing around.”

“But now we know that’s probably because you’ve been spending all your time with Harry, who is your boyfriend, I assume,” Caitlyn finishes.

Louis wants to argue more, to contradict everything they’re saying, but as he thinks, he’s not sure he can. It’s true that before Harry, he was a free agent, flitting from one fling to the next. Looking back on the past year, he can see how maybe it wouldn’t be his friends’ first choice to think all his time was suddenly captured by a steady boyfriend. And honestly, as he recalls as much as he can from the past year, his time with Harry _vastly_ outweighs his time with anyone else. So he can definitely see where the miscommunication lays as he seems to barely see the girls outside of practice anymore. But still. Harry’s and his anniversary is only a month away - Louis wants to believe that spending a year with someone constitutes people being aware of it.

Sensing his distress, Louis' teammates are quick to reassure him. Nisha throws her arm around Louis' shoulders while Caitlyn grabs one hand and Dreika the other.

“It’s okay, Lou,” Jes soothes. “We’re not trying to attack you or make you feel bad. We’re all busy and haven’t really kept each other in the loop.”

Caitlyn squeezes Louis' hand, smiling encouragingly. “Exactly. I mean, I got my wisdom teeth out last month and you all didn’t know until the day after when I sent a pic of my fucked up face. And I knew for, like, four months I was getting them out!”

Louis rolls his eyes but giggles. “I don’t think that’s quite the same, but I appreciate it.”

“Of course Lou,” Nisha hugs him close. “And it’s okay, really. _We’re_ sorry that we didn’t realize you were in a relationship.”

Louis sighs with a shrug. “It’s not like you're the only ones who didn’t know about Harry.”

“Well, tell us about him now,” Caitlyn suggests. She gestures them all to follow her as she heads to the side benches bordering the football field where water bottles are scattered around. The rest of the teammates have already fanned out for break, leaving the area messy but relatively empty of people.

Blushing, Louis bounces on his toes as he thinks of Harry and what he can say to convey just how much he means to him. All he can come up with is a quiet but genuine, “he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Jes immediately squeals, grabbing a water bottle and squeezing it tight. “That is so cute!”

Louis blushes deeper and accepts the water Nisha holds out to him. “Would we know him?” she asks. “Does he go here?”

“Yeah, he’s a year below us,” Louis nods. He tilts his head thoughtfully, then adds, “you might not know him though. He’s kind of quiet.”

Dreika smiles indulgently. “Are you going to meet at prom?”

“Yeah, he just got me some really stunning jewelry to match the dress I got.”

“Aww!” Caitlyn coos. “He sounds amazing.”

“He really is,” Louis blushes. “Honestly I love him so fucking much.”

As the girls sigh sweetly and encouragingly at him, Nisha snickers with a head nod at the bleachers. “Well, I guess Collins isn’t the only one who needs to move on now. Poor Marcel will have to too.”

Jes immediately cackles while Caitlyn almost snorts water out of her nose. 

In genuine confusion, Louis furrows his brows, noticing how Dreika‘s eyes roll. “Wait, who?” He asks.

Quirking a brow, Jes stops laughing to stare at Louis skeptically. “Marcel?” She questions. When Louis doesn’t respond, she gives an exasperated huff. “C’mon Lou, don’t tell me you haven’t noticed Marcel checking you out at legitimately every game and practice. _Everyone_ knows he's obsessed with you.”

“Yeah,” Caitlyn snorts. “Even you couldn’t miss his borderline creepy stare as he laser focuses on you.”

And okay Louis can admit that he’s definitely been a bit more oblivious this year than he’d care to admit. But as established he’s been pretty preoccupied. It’s his senior year - he’s not only focused on family and normal school year things like homework and his team, but also college forms, final grades, senior activities, and _obviously_ prom. Add on the fact that this year he has a boyfriend who he’s head over heels for, and Louis' vision has been very narrowed down to what’s in front of him. It explains why he was so oblivious to Collins apparently being in love with him, and apparently now with Marcel too.

With hands on his hips, Louis sighs with a nod toward the bleachers. “Alright, which one’s Marcel, then?”

Eerily, they point to an area on the stands, simultaneous. But the thing is, it’s warm out, a perfect spring day, and so the stands after school are full with milling students either in club meetings, hanging out, or doing homework. They aren’t to bursting like on game night but full enough that pinpointing just one student is a task.

“He’s tall and has brown hair. The one with the glasses and t-shirt,” Nisha describes.

Which is literally every other student. Louis huffs but dutifully scans the crowd, looking for someone with a possibly ‘creepy stare.’ 

He can’t find anyone like that, but in his search he does see Harry tucked away near the top, book open on his lap and camera sitting next to him. He wonders if he’s reading the manual for the new shutter he got on it. He can’t help the smile that creeps up his cheeks at his dork of a boyfriend - honestly only Harry would thoroughly read the manual for something new. 

With a fond eye roll, he reluctantly looks away to continue his search for this other student, but he doesn’t find him.

“I can’t find him. I do see Harry though,” he points. 

“Near the top! In the red shirt, and he has a little book op- well he did have a book open, but he has a camera in his hands.”

Squinting, the rest of the squad looks, but they give up after a minute. “We can’t see him anymore than you can see Marcel.”

Louis sighs, but waves them off. “It’s fine. At least you know he exists now. And you can meet him soon.”

— 

Soon turns out to be not so soon at all. In the weeks that follow, Louis' life takes such a busy turn, he barely has time to see Harry, let alone set up a time for everyone to get together. He’s become resigned to the fact that everyone will just have to meet at prom, when they’ll all be together anyway.

The year is coming to a close and as such everything else follows accordingly. Last minute college applications are at their deadline, cheer competitions are wrapping up, final grades are being submitted, and prom creeps ever closer.

And even though it’s been confirmed that Louis is very much taken, Jamie Collins still hasn’t backed down from flirting with Louis as much as possible. Louis has started to avoid him as much as he attempts to keep any eyes out for this Marcel person who he is beginning to think doesn’t exist. It might just be in everyone’s heads that there are apparently more than just Collins who obsesses over him - an exaggeration that was taken out of proportion.

It genuinely doesn’t matter, and as the weeks pass Louis lets it all fade to the background, more focused on all the incredible things to come. 

—

Louis goes into prom with his team. It’s a tradition that stems from celebrating the victory of the football team being undefeated champions for eight consecutive years. The united front of both the cheerleading squad alongside the football team is supposed to bring school spirit and good luck to the next year in the hopes that it’ll create an undefeated team. And even though the school isn’t necessarily the champions they once were, losing plenty of games since the winning streak started, it’s still a tradition that is very much alive and running. 

So Louis along with his squad and the football team sweep into the prom in all their top-of-the-high-school-chain glory. The dance is already in full swing already, but everyone stops to cheer and applaud as the two groups make their way into the crowd. Louis feels on top of the fucking world wearing the most gorgeous dress and matching jewelry, surrounded by his freinds, and supported by his peers. 

The only thing that could make it better would be Harry by his side.

So as his team stops in the middle of the room, Louis scans the crowd for his boyfriend, thankful for his heels that add a little more height to him. He’s still one of the shorter people in the room, but at least he doesn’t have to bounce around on his toes to look above everyone’s heads.

It’s not until the principal of the school starts giving the annual welcoming and congratulatory speech to the senior students that Louis finally spots him. Harry’s tucked away on the wall, hair slicked back and glasses perched beautifully on his face, already staring at Louis with a beaming smile and proud look in his eye. He blows Louis a sweet kiss alongside a cheeky wink.

With a whine that is drowned out by the applause around him, Louis resists the urge to just run over to him and jump into Harry’s perfect arms. Instead he waves eagerly watching as his boyfriend laughs delightedly and waves back.

“Louis,” Jes interrupts, grabbing Louis' waving hand. “They’re announcing Prom King and Queen.”

Immediately Louis snaps his attention forward with a grip to Jes’ hand that will surely bruise. “Oh shit,” he whispers. “I’m going to fucking lose it.”

“Relax,” Jes giggles, squeezing Louis' fingers back. “We all know you’re going to win.”

With anticipation running through his veins, Louis bounces once. “Let’s hope so.”

As usual, Prom King is announced first. The principal dramatically opens a big golden envelope to the cheesy sound of a distant drum roll from a student probably behind the stage curtain. He takes a suspenseful pause before announcing, “Jamie Collins!”

The students around him cheer wildly while Louis rolls his eyes. They all watch as Collins bounds up the stairs, ostentatiously letting the student council leader crown him as this year's Prom King. He waves proudly, cheers kicking back up as he is handed a microphone to give a thank you speech which mainly consists of ridiculous football cheers that last until the principal clears his throat pointedly.

“If you’re through,” he speaks through the retrieved microphone, causing titters to fill the room, then a hush to descend. “And, now, for this year's Prom Queen…”

Louis feels like he’s going to faint, clutching Jes’ hand to his chest, anxiety sitting in his stomach. He wants to murder the principal for taking so fucking long to peel open the gaddamn envelope, so over the stupid theatrical suspense.

Then, finally, _fucking finally_ , he announces, “Louis Tomlinson!” 

Louis instantly cries.

“Oh my god!” Jes screams into his ear. “Oh my god! Louis!” 

Behind him, Drieka nudges him forward, squealing, “That’s you! That’s you! Go up there!”

But Louis is so overwhelmed, it takes Jes and Nisha leading him forward for him to make it to the stairs of the stage. He tries to collect himself, taking a deep breath, before gathering his long silk skirt into his hand to ascend the stage.

Up in the spotlight, Louis cries a little more, sniffling proudly at the cheers and whistles that accompany him to the middle of the stage. He sees Jamie Collins smirk at him, but he refuses to let him ruin this moment, turning proudly to face the senior student body. A crown is placed daintily on his head and he just manages to whisper a sincere, “thank you,” before the microphone is thrust into his hand.

“I-” he starts, then clears his throat, laughing to himself. He wipes tears from his face and tries again. “I am so honored. Truly.”

More cheers and applause follow and Louis breathes with more confidence. “I am just so thankful to be standing up here before you. I know this may seem silly and frivolous to some, but for me, and the community I represent, it means the world. This is our school's first time voting a boy as Prom Queen and I am so touched that it was me.” He beams at the applause before ending with a sweet, “thank you so much. I hope we all have a magical night.”

The microphone is taken from his hand and the principal announces one last grand congratulations. “To this year’s Prom King and Queen.”

As the students cheer and applaud, Louis reluctantly takes Jamie’s offered arm to descend the stairs back into the throng of the crowd. Classmates congratulate Louis on his way to the middle of the dance floor and he proudly waves and blows kisses to everyone he sees.

Then, as per tradition, once the pair reach the epicenter of the students, a slow song begins to mark the classic dance for the Prom King and Queen.

As it’s expected, Louis originally believed that he would gladly dance with whoever won Prom King. Even though he would love nothing more than to share all of his dances with the love of his life, one dance really meant nothing in the grand scheme of things; so he entirely intended to give that up for the sake of his Prom Queen role. However, as Louis turns to face his partner, Jamie’s eyes glinting in the low lighting, posture arrogant and sure, Louis’ lips involuntarily turn into a grimace, and he realizes that he doesn’t think he can go through with it after all. 

Jamie Collins, as is becoming the theme with the Prom King, doesn’t care to notice Louis' distaste, pointedly and smugly holding out a hand with a lascivious wink. 

Louis rolls his eyes, hoping he comes across as displeased as he is, and just as Collins ignores his reactions, Louis ignores his right back, overlooking him entirely. Instead Louis searches for Harry, easily picking him out amongst those gathered around himself and Jamie in a circle.

He stands handsomely, perfectly, ahead of a few students, hands tucked into the pockets of his Armani suit. The dark green, borderline black material makes his eyes shine and the satin tie tucked into his jacket matches Louis’ dress beautifully. He’s Louis’ dream come true, standing there like he'd stand forever as long as Louis would come to him in the end.

Without hesitation, Louis hikes his skirt up off the floor, dashing over to his boyfriend in a whirl of silk and laughter.

“I won!” He yells delightedly, falling into Harry’s arms. “Harry, I won!”

“I know, bunny,” Harry smiles back. He easily twirls Louis around once he’s gathered into his embrace, beaming delightedly. “I am so proud of you, Louis.”

Louis laughs and laughs even as he settles back onto his feet, blinking through bright, teary eyes. “Thank you,” he bites his lip, like that will contain his giddiness. “Thank you, Haz.”

Harry grins in a way that makes his dimples carve deep into his cheeks, then bends down to press their lips together. They’re quick, sweet pecks that have Louis’ giggles spilling onto the dance floor until they linger deep enough to have him sighing softly into Harry’s mouth.

So they kiss and Louis feels like drowning in this moment. He feels like nothing could amount to this, that the peak of all he’ll ever be is encompassed right here and now, with winning a title that represents so much more than just school royalty and being consumed by the love of his life. He wants to fall into this and never come up, become nothing but everything he is right now. 

And maybe that thought is sad, to think that this is _it_ for him, that he believes nothing can top this. But then he pulls away from Harry, and looks into his boyfriend’s face and sees so much fucking _love_ and _pride_ and unconditional fucking _support_ , like he believes in nothing more than he believes in Louis, and Louis feels brighter than the goddamn sun. He can certainly be taken over in this moment, sinking into it with everything he is while also looking forward with certainty to the next one, and the next one, and the next. Because there will always be more, since he will always have Harry, and every single moment with him makes Louis feel devoured in endless universes of happiness.

He laughs with the thought as he lets Harry pull away to sweep them into a clumsy but sweet slow dance. His arms hook around his boyfriend’s neck and his face buries itself into Harry’s chest. “I fucking love you.”

Tenderly, Harry kisses Louis’ forehead, smile pressed into Louis' fringe, before reaching one hand out to tilt Louis’ head back up. “I love you so much, my bunny.”

Louis tiptoes to press their lips together again. They try a few more pecks until they can’t contain their smiles, so Louis settles himself back down, swaying to the music. 

It takes a minute of him resting his head into the crook of Harry’s shoulder and neck for him to notice the stares and whispers. Which, at first he takes as normal first dance chit chat as everyone waits for the Prom King and Queen dance to be done so the rest of prom can continue. Then he considers that the shocked faces and gossip like whispers are a product of him abandoning Jamie Collins for another. It’s not until he hears snippets of actual conversations that Louis realizes something entirely different is going on.

“Are they calling you Marcel?” He startles up at Harry.

With a bashful duck of his head, Harry shrugs and chuckles. “Um, yeah, it’s like, a nickname? Sort of.”

“What? A nickname?”

“Yeah, you know-” Harry huffs. “You know that Youtube video?” He flicks his eyes away, then back again. There’s definitely a blush working its way up his cheeks, but Louis doesn’t think it’s entirely from embarrassment. “Marcel the Shell with Shoes on?”

“Marcel the…” Louis furrows his brows, then pulls back delightedly, his hands just barely hanging onto the back of Harry’s neck. “Wait, you mean that little shell that walks with the shoes? The cute animated one?” 

Harry ropes Louis back in with a chuckle. “Yes, Marcel the shell with the shoes. A couple of mates called me that when the video came out, because the shell is all, like, dorky and awkward.”

“What the hell?” Louis frowns, stopping their dance with a stubborn halt. “Well, that’s fucking rude.”

“Nah, it’s okay,” Harry laughs. He glances sideways before leading Louis away from the crowd, the students pouring back in now that the Prom King and Queen dance has ended. Once they settle to the side, away from the masses, Harry smiles with a carelessness that’s reflected in his words. “I don’t care if they call me that. It’s true. I was dorky and awkward as hell when I was younger, but I knew who I was and so I was okay with it. It’s just stuck and it’s kind of a joke now. I really don’t mind.”

“How did I not know this?” Louis throws his arms wide. “Why didn't you tell me?”

Harry laughs as he gathers Louis into his arms even though Louis pouts the whole time. “I thought you already knew, bunny. When I say it stuck, I mean that at this point most people genuinely know me as Marcel, the dorky kid. I was surprised when we first met that you didn’t call me that right off the bat.”

“But I didn’t even know you before; so how would I realize you were even called Marcel when I had no idea you existed!”

“Gee, thanks.”

With a glare Louis attempts to show how unamused he is, but Harry just continues laughing, ducking in to press a kiss to the top of Louis’ head. “Bunny,” he chuckles. “I really don’t know what to tell you. I thought you knew and it was just never brought up.”

“Fine,” Louis huffs. He scrunches his nose up at his boyfriend before biting back a giggle. “You know, it makes sense now.”

“Hmm?” Harry hums. “What does?”

With a devious smirk Louis wiggles his brows. “The girls told me that there was a _Marcel_ who was apparently _obsessed_ with me. They said he was borderline creepy with how he just stares at me.”

Now Harry pouts, his brows furrowed and cheeks red. “I’m not that bad.”

Louis tosses his head back in glee. “Oh yes you are!” He giggles. “You and that creepy frog stare are certifiable.”

“Heeeyy!” Harry frowns. He tries to keep up his offended pout, but his lips betray him, the corners quirking up at Louis’ obvious delight.

“It’s okay,” Louis smiles at him. His arms snake up around Harry’s neck and he clings with unfiltered happiness. “I happen to love your frog face. And at least everyone knows I’m as taken with someone who is as enamored with me as I am with him.”

Harry's brilliant beam shows off his sweet dimples that never fail to make Louis swoon, gripping on to the boy’s waist fiercely. “Always, bunny.”

With a smile, Louis bounces as much as he can on his heels, pressing his lips to Harry’s. It’s a short lived kiss that breaks when Louis hears his name being called. When he looks over his shoulder, Dreika and Caitlyn are waving him over enthusiastically, their other hands clasped with their partners’. 

“Oh,” Louis giggles. “Let’s go over.” He pulls away from Harry’s arms, linking their hands together to lead the way. “I want to introduce you to my friends, since I’ve apparently been keeping you all to myself.”

Before they can make it two feet, Harry gives a sharp tug on their hold. “Of course I’ll meet them,” Harry agrees. He ropes Louis back into his embrace so that he can duck down to whisper the rest against Louis’ ear. “But I love nothing more than when you keep me all to yourself. And I can’t wait to have _you_ all to _myself_ tonight.”

—

“Are you ready?” Louis asks as he stands on the other side of the bathroom door. He can hear Harry chuckle and imagines him leaned back on his elbows on the bed.

“Yes, bunny,” Harry calls back. “I’ve been ready.”

Louis pouts and crosses his arms. “Well don’t sound so put out by it. I’m worth waiting for.”

“I’m definitely not arguing with that,” Harry agrees. There’s shuffling and then a louder, “come out here bunny. I want to see you.”

With a breath Louis drops his arms and pushes his way out of the bathroom. As he thought, Harry is perched on the end of his bed in his boxers, laying back as he waits for Louis to present himself. However, once Louis steps into the room, Harry shoots upward with wide, hungry eyes.

Louis giggles, twirling in place, feeling a deep blush work its way up his cheeks.

The thing is, he’s not even wearing anything particularly special. He’s still got his gown on, jewelry winking in the dim light, heels kicked off at the entrance to Harry’s room, and he’s sure he looks as worn as he is from dancing for hours at prom. What _is_ different though, is how he switched his Prom Queen crown for a pair of bunny ears perched on his head.

“You like it?” he asks shyly, reaching up to touch one of the ears. They’re sheer cream, with pink fuzz around the edges and small soft dots amongst the mesh. He thought they were precious when he saw them online and couldn’t resist the temptation to buy them. With the way Harry’s staring at him now, they’re honestly already shaping up to be one of his better impulse purchases.

Which is funny, because Harry has seen Louis in multiple states of undress, everything from full lingerie sets to skimpy panties, and yet nothing makes him feel more sexy than standing in front of his boyfriend in his silk dress, the jewelry he bought him, and a pair of bunny ears.

“Mmm, you know I do,” Harry licks his lips. He settles more comfortably on the end of the bed, spreading his legs in invitation and crooking his finger in Louis’ direction. “Come here, bun.”

Fluttering his lashes, Louis makes his way over, his hips yanked into the open v of Harry’s legs the second he’s close enough. 

Harry immediately grips onto the back of Louis’ neck in a tight grip that has Louis melting on the spot. “Do you have any idea,” he rumbles deeply, “how tempting you looked tonight?”

Louis shakes his head as he rests his forehead against Harry’s.

Harry hums, squeezing Louis’ neck once before drifting his hands down. “Do you know how many people were staring at you? Wanting what I have,” he asks. His fingers pluck at the strings holding Louis’ dress together and Louis shivers as they slowly come undone.

Once the dress hangs loosely, Louis whispers out a quiet, “only you. Only have eyes for you.”

With a dark look, Harry yanks the dress the rest of the way off, then Louis’ panties, grumbling out a deep, “that’s right sweet bunny, all mine.” Then he pulls Louis over his lap, hands tucked under his boyfriend’s stradling knees to pull them so close that Louis rubs up against Harry’s stomach every time he breathes. It’s one of Louis’ most favorite spots in the world.

“Looked so stunning tonight, my sweet bunny,” Harry rumbles into Louis’ neck. He kisses around the jewelry draped across his collarbones, sucking the skin so he can add another necklace, this time in the form of blossoming red marks. Louis arches his back with a whine, showing off his neck, as he feels Harry’s bites, the pearls and diamonds mixing in with his boyfriend’s teeth, a pinch of pain that sparks along his spine deliciously. 

“Gonna leave this on,” Harry drags the necklace away in his teeth with a little tug before dropping it back. “Fuck you in nothing but your jewels and pretty little bunny ears.”

“Yes,” Louis sighs. He bounces eagerly, once, on Harry’s lap, before Harry’s smacking him sharply on one of his cheeks in warning.

“Always bouncing around, bun,” Harry admonishes as he half heartedly soothes the burn on Louis’ skin with rough hands.

Louis tries to hold himself still, heeding the look in his boyfriend's eyes, but it’s hard with the way Harry’s groping him, shifting his hips forward with his forceful hands. On a particularly harsh pull, where Harry spreads his cheeks, Louis cries out a desperate, “want it,” with his head thrown back. 

“I know,” Harry hums, but does nothing more than give a pat to his boyfriend’s bum before diving back in to reinforce the love bites interspersed between the jewels of Louis’ necklace. 

It’s not until Louis falls so docile in Harry’s hold that his head is drooped into Harry’s neck, that Harry reaches behind himself to snick open a tube of lube.

“Beautiful, so so beautiful,” Harry praises. “I’m gonna start with two.”

It’ll burn and Louis will feel the stretch more than usual since it’s been awhile since they’ve been able to have sex with their busy schedules, but he loves it. He _loves_ it when Harry pushes his limits knowing that Louis will fall into it like everything else he does.

So when Harry coats his fingers and presses two inside, Louis arches into it eagerly with a sharp keen.

“Yeah,” Harry husks pressing Louis’ forehead to his own. “I know what you want.”

Louis’ lashes flutter at the feeling of Harry’s fingers fucking into him in slow languid drags and it takes all of his will to stop himself from leaning back and bouncing on them, taking them faster the way he knows will get him off quicker. But he doesn’t because that’s not what Harry wants from him right now. He wants Louis to revel in the feeling of being filled up after weeks without even as Louis twitches into it desperately.

When Harry presses in a third finger just as slow and unrelenting, Louis does nothing more than shudder, hips rolling minutely then falling still and pliable. 

“That’s it, bunny,” Harry hums approvingly. Then he yanks Louis down in a kiss that has Louis’ toes curling and back arching. He’ll never tire of Harry’s kisses, the way his boyfriend invades him, pries his mouth open and takes without any doubt that Louis will let him in no matter what. 

When Harry pulls away, Louis whines and tries to chase his lips, to have their mouths forever tied together, but Harry doesn’t let him. Instead Louis is forced to stay in place, Harry’s hand squeezing the back of his neck in warning. In contradiction he presses fleeting butterfly kisses around Louis’ face, his cheeks, the tip of his nose, each closed eyelid. Louis sighs into it because as much as he prefers Harry’s mouth to be pressed against his own, he can’t deny that any kiss from Harry anywhere on his body is a welcome delight.

With the last press of lips falling on Louis’ forehead, Harry pulls his fingers free, coaxing Louis up on his knees with sure hands and pulling down his own pants to free his cock. “Alright, bunny,” he croons in Louis’ ear. “Up you get.”

It takes a second for Louis' body to follow, so pliant from Harry holding him in place and expecting nothing but for Louis to _feel_ that the idea of moving, of working his body to get what he wants seems foreign. But he does move, slowly connecting his mind to his body with the encouragement that he now has to get up and sink on his boyfriend’s cock. It’s that thought that gets him uncurling, ready to take everything Harry has to offer.

An offer that Harry maneuvers him to with words that have Louis flushing down to his toes. “Let's get you on my cock, bunny, then you can bounce just like you like. Have as much as you want.”

Flushing, Louis does just that, sinking onto Harry, throwing his head back in a way that has Harry shooting out a hand to hold the back of his neck in support, lips finding Louis’ collarbones and neck again to nibble away Louis’ sharp inhale from taking all of Harry for the first time in so long.

“That’s it, my bunny,” Harry hums. “Feels so good. Bet it’s even better for you.”

Louis nods frantically, mewling when he’s finally down all the way, panting like he’s done more than just sit on his boyfriend’s cock, completely overwhelmed. 

Harry doesn't seem to care much, immediately gripping high up on Louis’ thighs to get him to start moving properly. “Let’s go, sweet bun. If you’re gonna be my bunny tonight, you gotta hop to it.”

Louis breathes out shakily, but nonetheless listens, just like he always does when it comes to Harry’s deep rumble, demanding things of him Louis’ always willing to give up. He raises up halfway, then drops back down immediately almost like he can’t help himself, crying out throatily. 

“I know it feels good, bunny,” Harry chuckles, although it’s strained from how Louis clenches around him. “Keep going, show me how much you bounce for me.”

Whimpering, Louis finally does, aided by Harry’s hands to gather himself enough to rock back and forth and then properly start riding his boyfriend. After two grinds down, Harry’s cock finds his prostate and Louis frantically chases the feeling.

“There you go,” Harry praises. “You’re such a good bunny.”

Louis whines at that, bouncing harder, his bunny ears sliding on his head. Harry reaches out to adjust them before pulling Louis forward into his neck to hold him tighter. Like this, Louis’ cock brushes up against Harry’s stomach and he whimpers at the feeling. 

“Beautiful, bun, with beautiful noises,” Harry compliments just as he grips tighter to Louis’ hips and fucks up when Louis drops down. Louis makes more noise at that, keening high in his throat, fingers scrabbling to hold on to Harry’s back.

“Harry!” He cries out on the next thrust. He drops into the feeling, unable to contribute any longer with the way Harry takes over and snaps into him sharp and sweet, moving any way Harry sees fit.

“It’s okay. Want you to come for me,” Harry reassures into Louis’ ear, pressing a kiss there just after. “Want you to come right now, with my cock inside you, this necklace around your throat, and your pretty bunny ears on your head.”

It takes just one more thrust and Louis does, shaking and falling apart, a haze settling over him with how overwhelmed he is. He barely feels Harry’s punishing thrusts that continue to fuck up into him until he too is shaking with a stuttering breath, stilling as he warms Louis up from the instide out. 

He stays inside Louis even after they become sensitive, like he just can’t bear the thought of parting after being connected for so long. Louis doesn’t say it, but he fucking loves it.

Harry brings their lips together, lazily pressing into Louis’ mouth fingers stroking along Louis’ cheeks. “I love you, my perfect, perfect bunny.”

Louis flushes, preens with happiness, and sweetly tilts his head into Harry’s loving hold. “I love you, Harry. So, so much.”

—

**One year ago:**

“Hello?” Louis pokes his head into the computer lab. It’s early, but he knows that usually graphic design and photo club students can be found clicking away on the computers. It takes a thorough sweep of the room for him to spot someone in the back corner messing around on a screen, a camera hooked up to the monitor. 

“Excuse me?” Louis calls again. When there’s no answer, he ventures further into the room, letting the door fall shut behind him. As he gets closer to the boy he realizes that he has earbuds stuffed into his ears, his entire focus on the screen in front of him. Louis feels kind of bad for intending to interrupt him, but not enough to leave him alone. 

Tentatively he taps on the boy’s shoulder, smiling as the boy pulls a bud from his ear and spins around. Piercing green eyes is the first thing Louis notices, appearing just a bit bigger than normal due to the large framed glasses perched on the boy’s nose. He also has a head of slicked back curls that open up his face and full pink lips that part slightly at the sight of Louis. 

Definitely cute, Louis decides.

Even more determined he smiles brightly, fluttering his lashes. “Hi, I’m Louis.”

The boy blinks once, slowly, before crooking his lips up in a corner and replying. “I’m Harry.”

“Lovely to meet you Harry. I was wondering if you could help me with something.”

Harry blinks again before turning fully in his chair to face Louis. He has a plaid shirt on, unbuttoned to show a graphic tee underneath that has a chemistry joke, _I think I lost an electron; are you sure?; I’m positive_. Louis breathes a laugh under his breath as he peruses a little more, noticing the expensive fitted jeans and scuffed boots, a camera bag kicked underneath the desk.

When Louis glances back at Harry’s face, it seems Harry is taking a sweep of Louis’ appearance as well. Preening, Louis bounces on his toes and tucks his arms behind his back to show himself off more. He knows he looks good in his light wash skinny jeans that are cuffed at the ankle, white off the shoulder top that flows gently, and a sheen of lip gloss coating his lips, the last of which Harry seems fixated on like he’s never seen lip gloss on a boy before.

Louis smirks then clears his throat pointedly.

Harry’s eyes snap back up and a blush dusts along his cheeks making Louis smile smugly.

“Oh, shit,” Harry stumbles over his words. The pink on his face deepens. “I’m sorry- er, uh, what can I help you with?”

Laughing, Louis pulls out the chair next to Harry settling in. “It’s okay, I was checking you out too,” he shrugs. “No big deal.”

Harry’s eyes widen before he laughs loudly, head tipped back. He smiles wide leaning back into his seat. “Well that’s good to know.”

It’s Louis’ turn to blush as he ducks his head to peer up at Harry through his lashes. 

Harry does that slow blink again, eyes roaming Louis’ face, then clears his throat pointedly. “Right, what can I help you with?”

“Oh, yeah!” Louis perks up. “I was hoping you were good at, like, graphic design or something. I need help making posters and, well,” he gestures around the room, “you’re the only one to be found. _Please_ tell me you can work photoshop and know how to print.”

Another loud laugh bursts from Harry’s mouth that scrunches up his nose, dislodging his oversized glasses. Louis has the overwhelming urge to fix them. 

But Harry does it first, using his finger to settle them back in place. “Yeah,” he giggles out. “I can help you with that. Printing is _very_ complicated, but I think I can manage.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“Oh, yeah definitely. One time, I went to print a paper and it was _so_ difficult, the printer exploded.”

“What the fuck?” Louis laughs. “Shut up, don’t be an asshole.”

“I’m not,” Harry raises his hands. “I swear, it _exploded_.”

“What the fuck ever,” Louis giggles, reaching out to push on Harry’s broad shoulder. “Can you help or not, you dick.”

Smiling deeply, dimples actually carve into Harry’s cheeks. “Yeah, sure, I can help a fellow printer in need.”

With a roll of his eyes, Louis pulls out his phone, swiping around to find a picture of his first younger set of twin siblings. “You know, if you weren’t my only option, I wouldn’t tolerate this disrespect. As it is, you’re all I have, so. I’m going on a limb here, trusting a fool like you.”

Harry gasps and slaps a hand on his chest. “I would _never_ disrespect a fellow peer who also struggles with simple technology!”

Cutting a glare, Louis pushes his phone over to Harry, a picture pulled up on the screen. “If you’re done now,” he drawls, waiting for Harry’s smirk to subside and for him to take a look at the phone. When he does, Louis zooms in on the picture so the two identical girls’ faces are more visible. “These are my sisters, Daisy and Phoebe. They’re turning ten next week.”

Harry smiles at the picture tapping the screen when it goes dark to see better. “They’re cute. And they look like you.”

“Yeah, but don’t let that fool you. They’re right menaces.”

“Aren’t all siblings,” Harry chuckles.

“Oh, definitely. But, well, I love them to death.” Which is probably the truest statement Louis has ever said. His siblings are his world and he would do anything for them. Plus he knows that going into his senior year and then eventually college that his time with them is limited. Not to say that he’ll never see them but it won’t be like now, when he can go home and spend time with them, cook dinner, help with homework, and go to all their dances, shows, or games. As much as Louis is looking forward to his future, that is the one thing he’ll miss the most.

Which is why he’s so determined to make everything as incredible as he can now.

“So these lovely ladies,” Louis continues as he swipes on his phone a couple more times. “Really love Minecraft.”

Choking on a laugh, Harry leans forward to examine the new pictures Louis is flipping through on his phone. 

At one particular photo, Louis zooms in on a giant looking castle then hands it off for Harry’s inspection. “I don’t really know much about it,” he shrugs, “but they’ve showed me some of the things they’ve built and it’s honestly incredible.”

Harry gawks at the screen as he swipes to other photos, zooming in and out on a couple more. “They built this?”

“Yeah,” Louis puffs up proudly. “Proper artists.”

After a few more photos, Harry puts the phone down, genuinely impressed. “They’re really talented. But, what do you want me to do?”

Eagerly Louis bounces in his chair. “They want to have a Minecraft themed party for their birthday next week. We need to make invitations for them and I volunteered. I really want it to be special for them, so I was hoping I could enlist someone to help make something cool for them. And then, if possible, maybe use their creations to make decorations for the party.”

Harry sits back in his chair with a grin tucked in the corners of his lips. “You are such a good brother.”

Louis blushes but attempts to wave away the compliment, even though it has him feeling proud inside. “Just doing what any sibling would.”

Snorting, Harry rolls his eyes. “Definitely not. I love my sister to death but I would never think to do all this for her. It’s admirable.”

“Well,” Louis fumbles, blush creeping up his cheeks. He thinks it’s an odd thing to be flustered about, but the fact that someone else recognizes the effort of love he wants to show his family, and does it so earnestly, makes Louis feel seen and appreciated. So, he really can’t help the pink on his cheeks. Clearing his throat, he tries again. “Well thank you. Um, so. Do you think you can help?”

“Oh, I _definitely_ want to help,” Harry beams. “It’ll be epic.”

Louis squeals, throwing his arms around Harry. “Oh my gosh! Thank you, thank you!”

It takes a second but Harry hugs him back lightly as he chuckles. When Louis pulls back he sees that now Harry has a blush and Louis feels pleased that he flusters Harry as much as Harry seems to fluster him.

Clearing his throat, Harry gestures to the computer screen. “Did you want to start working now? The bell will ring in,” he glances at his expensive watch, “twenty minutes. We can hash out some details now and then really work on it later.”

“Yes!” Louis bounces. “Please!”

And so they pull up a word document and Harry jots down some points while Louis rambles on about his ideas and what he thinks the girls will like. Harry listens attentively, humming along and even adding his own thoughts of what can and can’t work. By the end of the twenty minutes, they have a rough sketch of what the invitations will be as well as some potential decorative posters for the party.

When the bell finally rings, they gather their bags, standing to sort out the desks. Louis turns to thank Harry again, but stops short as he sees Harry’s height, surprised at how tall the boy actually is. He’s not a giant or anything, and Louis isn’t _that_ short (he really is), but there’s definitely a noticeable gap between their heights and Louis can’t help how he finds that as just another attractive thing about Harry.

Harry seems to like it too, if his wandering eyes are anything to go by. They skim Louis’ body, flickering to how Louis’ head ends at Harry’s collarbones, a good ten inches shorter. Louis preens under the attention and shared attraction, bouncing on his toes.

It draws Harry’s eyes back to his face, the green bright and easy, a pleased smile stretching across his cheeks. “Can I have your number?” 

Louis falls back to his heels. He’s surprised that Harry, who seemed so shy at first, asked point blank for his number. It fills him with butterflies until he remembers he probably only wants it so they can schedule a time to plan more for the party.

Smile dimming, but no less genuine, Louis hands his phone over. “Right, yeah. Just call me or text me whenever you’re free to work.”

“Or,” Harry drawls, tapping away on Louis’ phone. When he finishes, he flashes Louis a charming grin as he gives the phone back. “I can call or text you whenever we’re both free to work or even just to see each other, maybe?”

A sweet smile creeps up Louis’ face, a matching blush to Harry’s growing along the apples of his cheeks. “Are you asking me out?” He bounces on his toes.

Ducking his head bashfully, Harry blinks slowly at Louis, poised on the tips of his toes in anticipation. “I suppose I am, yeah.”

Louis giggles, another bounce popping him up. “I would absolutely love that, Harry.”

They leave the room together, smiles engraved in their cheeks, each other’s numbers in their pockets. When they go to part ways in the hall, Louis bounces on his toes with pure happiness at the way Harry looks like he doesn’t want to leave his side at all. The feeling is very much mutual.

“You do that a lot you know,” Harry says, just before Louis can walk away.

“Do what?” Louis cocks his head.

“Bounce around,” he laughs. “Like a little bunny.”

“Oh, I- I didn’t realize.” And Louis hadn’t. He thinks about it now, though, and yeah he has been fairly hyped up around Harry, unable to keep his pleased energy bound in his small body. He’s never noticed that about himself before.

“It’s okay; I like it.” Harry grins indulgently. “Now hop to class, bunny. I’ll see you soon.”

Louis sure hopes so.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it :)
> 
> Tumblr: lovelykits


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